


The Dovecote is Empty

by Menya_Savut



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Crossdressing, Episode: s02e12 Girl Meets Yearbook, Gen, Light Angst, larkle friendship, non-heteronormativity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 02:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4547526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menya_Savut/pseuds/Menya_Savut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucas doesn't trust Donnie Barnes. Not one bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dovecote is Empty

**Author's Note:**

> You can read this as a standalone, but things might come out of the blue that are established in my other fics.

_Once there was a little rabbit who wasn’t happy. Every day when he went out with his mother, he’d see all the other animals, and he wished he were more like them. He’d ask his mother, “Why can’t I have a turtle’s shell, or a mouse’s long tail?”_

_“Because you are a rabbit,” his mother would always say._

_There was a wishing well, and one day little rabbit went so that he could wish to be different. He said, “I wish I had red wings like a robin!”_

_And then and there he grew red wings._

_The little rabbit was overjoyed. He ran straight home to his mother and said, “Look, Mother! I have red wings, just like a robin!”_

_But his mother said, “Who are you?”_

_“I am your little rabbit!” the little rabbit said._

_“I don’t know of any little rabbit with red wings,” said his mother._

_\- derived from “The Little Rabbit Who Wanted_ _Red Wings” by Carolyn Sherwin Bailey_

Something’s wrong.

What scares Lucas the most is how much of an understatement that is. They’ve just reached the end of a week where every one of his friends assumed some sort of twisted, caricatured alter-ego, and Lucas was seriously afraid they’d run away from him.

Now things are back to normal; Maya’s not Riley, Riley’s not Morosha M. Black, Farkle’s not Donnie Barnes. Everyone is their true selves. And Farkle is changing, growing up.

Lucas is not as perceptive as Riley, not as strategic as Maya, not as judicious as Farkle. But he trusts his gut and his gut is telling him that Farkle’s lying.

Which makes no sense, because Farkle doesn’t look like he’s lying. Lucas knows what Farkle looks like when he’s lying. He can’t pull it off. He gets so obviously nervous and his words fall flat and he looks anywhere but at you. So why is Farkle making eye contact with him, shoulders down and mouth smiling? Why do the words sound genuine?

What’s going on inside his head?

Lucas can’t figure it out. It’s driving him crazy, but he can’t figure it out.

For now, Lucas will have to be content with the fact that Farkle is his friend, that he’s sitting across from Lucas and talking to him. Lucas will have to be content with the smile on Farkle’s face, the one that Lucas cannot trust. 

“Sign my yearbook?”

“’Course.”

 

Lucas can’t shake the feeling. Farkle’s perfectly friendly, but he acts different, sounds different. Lucas wants to chalk it up to “growing up” as Farkle has, but the phrase leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Lucas doesn’t want to doubt Farkle, but he’s worried out of his mind.

They’re in Lucas’s room when Lucas dares to bring it up. Farkle’s sitting on the floor with him and the posterboard’s nearly finished when Lucas stands up to grab the scissors and looks down at Farkle, properly.

“Farkle?”

“Hm?”

“Seriously – what’s going on?”

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

“I dunno, Farkle. I-”

Lucas sighs, closes his eyes. He tries again.

“Why – why did you want to be a regular guy?”

Farkle blinks. “The superlatives in the yearbook. You know that.”

“Yeah, but”—and Lucas is desperate—“it must be more than that. You never cared what other people thought of you before. You loved being different.”

Farkle says nothing.

“What changed?” Lucas asks. “And why are you so eager to grow up now?”

Still Farkle is silent. He looks almost remorseful.

“Was it something one of us said? Was it something _I_ said?”

Farkle stands up, stricken. “Of course not.”

“Then what?”

Farkle stares at him, at a loss for words.

“Just tell me,” says Lucas. He’s nearly begging. “Whatever the reason is, I won’t judge you.”

Farkle shakes his head. He looks as if his heart is breaking. “I – I can’t. Not right now. Please…don’t make me.”

And it’s Lucas’s worst nightmare; he knows he was right, he knows something’s bothering Farkle, but he doesn’t know what and he can’t fix it.

Lucas puts down the scissors and steps around the posterboard toward Farkle. He holds him at arm’s length, then pulls him into a hug.

Farkle’s skinny arms wrap around him.

“You know I love you, right?” says Lucas.

Farkle only nods into his shoulder.

 

It’s a few days later and they’re heading home from school. The four of them usually ride the subway together, so Farkle is caught off-guard when Lucas steers him away from the girls.

“What-?”

“Come on; we’re going to the mall.”

Lucas has an arm around him and he wants to protest, but a glance over his shoulder shows him that Maya and Riley have already turned away. Maya throws them a confused wave and disappears around the corner.

Farkle turns back to Lucas. “Uh, why?”

“It’s part of your experiment,” Lucas says. “You’re growing and changing, right? Wouldn’t hurt to try on clothes.”

“But-”

“Isn’t this what you want?”

“Well, yeah.”

Farkle doesn’t know what to do. He lets Lucas lead him to the platform for the southbound train to Coney Island. Presently the train arrives and they board.

They get off at 34th St – Herald Square. Farkle follows Lucas into the mall. They stop at a relatively innocuous store.

“Go on,” says Lucas.

“What…what should I try?”

“What do you like?”

 _I don’t know,_ Farkle thinks.

 

It’s pretty awful. Nothing looks right, nothing feels right. Farkle doesn’t get why, though. That sweater with the leather shoulders he bought those weeks ago didn’t feel uncomfortable. It made sense. So why is nothing making sense now?

Farkle doesn’t show Lucas anything he tries. Lucas lets him be.

He finally settles on a hoodie. If all else fails, he can hide in it.

 

After that little adventure, Farkle’s ready to head straight back to the station. But Lucas stops him again.

“What is it now?”

“I have some errands to run,” says Lucas. “It won’t take long.”

They go to a store called Kiwi Gate. Farkle stares at the storefront dubiously. The place sells wigs and costume makeup. Why does Lucas have errands here?

But Lucas walks in without hesitation. Farkle has no choice but to follow.

Lucas wanders off toward the lipstick counter, and Farkle sits down on a stool to wait. He watches an attendant approach Lucas; they exchange a few words. There’s a muted air of familiarity between them.  

Farkle’s scrolling through the news on his phone when the same attendant approaches him. _Dana,_ her nametag reads. He offers a small smile, feeling awkward.

“Would you like to try on a wig?” she asks.

Farkle glances at Lucas. Dana smiles encouragingly.

“Alright,” he says shyly.

So she sits him in front of a mirror and slips his hair into a wig cap. Farkle twists his beanie in his hands. The wig he tries on is slightly wavy and reaches his shoulders, and is the same color of brown as his hair.

It’s strange. He doesn’t look different at all.

Lucas appears at his shoulder in a purple wig, ponytail swinging. He smiles easily at Farkle and considers his reflection in the mirror. 

“What do you think?” asks Lucas. “Too purple?”

“It’s a bit out there,” Dana says.

“True,” says Lucas. “Purple’s a hard color to match clothes with. But you look good, Farkle.”

“You should get it,” Dana says.

“Where would I wear it?” Farkle asks.

“You could wear it with me,” says Lucas. “I have a more normal-looking wig at home. I’ve been wanting to break it out.”

Farkle says nothing. He looks at his reflection.

“Just get it,” says Lucas. “Don’t think. If you like it, then get it.”

 

They leave the mall. Farkle’s wig is wrapped neatly in a box. Lucas bought lipstick and a couple of makeup brushes. They part ways at the subway station.

 

Farkle is familiar with Donnie Barnes. They’re good friends, actually.

Well, “good” may be a bit of an exaggeration. They’ve known each other for a long time, in any case, ever since Farkle realized he was different from most other people and that Donnie was what the world considered normal. So there was Donnie, nameless at the time, sitting in the back of Farkle’s mind and wanting out in the worst way. But Farkle didn’t know what to do with him, so he let Donnie hide.

Things progressed; Farkle became more Farkle and Donnie became more Donnie, until Farkle swore he never knew the guy, even though they’d coexisted for so long. That wasn’t right. Donnie had as much of a right to validation as Farkle. But Donnie was so boring, and Farkle was interesting. Donnies were a dime a dozen. There was only one Farkle.

So Farkle ignored Donnie. Farkle was Farkle. Farkle was so Farkle, in fact, that not a speck of Donnie ever saw the light. Donnie felt suffocated, and Farkle felt hollow.

And here’s Farkle now. He’s seen Donnie, met him in full force. The guy deserves a chance. He’s had to shut up for thirteen years while Farkle says whatever he wants. But compared to Farkle, Donnie’s a child, a seed, a cell. Donnie’s tending toward ruin before he can even get a breath out. Farkle needs Donnie alive. He needs Donnie alive, and liberated, and with him always.

He’d better make sure the kid survives, before everything falls apart.

**Author's Note:**

> “No more GMW fics!” I said. “Post in a different fandom!” I said. Then Girl Meets Yearbook happened.  
> I don’t believe for one hot second that Farkle’s okay.  
> So Lucas panics a little, because I panicked a little as an audience member. This thing with Farkle was really scary. Like, that-needs-counseling scary. (Maya’s little bit too.) Which might be an overreaction on my part, but that’s how I feel. Thus, this story.  
> That last bit kind of makes it sound like Farkle has DID (dissociative identity disorder), but I just meant it to be heavy personification.  
> CROSSDRESSING WHAT – please look at the notes in my other story ‘Playing Pool and Wild Darts’ for the explanation.  
> The prologue is not a direct quote from the book; I had to change it a little bit for pacing and so that the rabbit’s mother could talk.


End file.
